A sense of Belonging
by Pearl sun
Summary: Kate returns from a Todd family get-together. Where she meets Tony at the airport, they muse about families. No pairings,from Kate's pov, set when Kate's alive duh. One shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own it.**

**Thank you to surferdude8225 for betaing.**

**This is from Kate's pov, there are no pairings, some kate and Tony friendship I suppose.**

**I have gone have gone back and watched the first and now second season, I suprised myself by liking Kate...most of the time, still prefer Ziva, meh. Enjoy, review maybe?**

* * *

I hate airports, they're too…clean.

Although I know this to be a lie, memories of goodbyes and food poisoning that I've done my best to forget about come unbidden into my mind. I suppress them mercilessly from habit.

There's an army of men in white suits running around, making sure that the light bulbs still work and there's no toilet paper left to clog up the bathroom sinks like at school. I pretend to be in a hurry like everyone else here, dressed in dark suits with brief cases or the hurried, disheveled mother with three children and a missing suitcase.

Feeling reckless, with a strange desire to be a rebel, like the eldest child who has given up trying to gain his mother's attention and is giving the finger to every person who walks by. When he turns his attention to me, I use my limited ability to hand signal the rudest thing that Abby taught me. The kid only cock's his head quizzically. A strange feeling of satisfaction falls over me, like a well loved blanket, and I feel a slight nagging worry at the effect that DiNozzo must be having on me.

Taking out my gum, I stick it under the rail on the elevator, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through me at my small, rebellious act. When the youngest kid throws a tantrum, scattering crayons around on the floor, I, being the good citizen, help to pick them up. But when I see the eldest kid imitate the sign language that I gave earlier, I'm secretly impressed that he has remembered and I slip a black crayon into my jacket pocket.

The mother, after thanking me profusely, disappears, dragging all three kids along with her. The middle one, a girl like me, I feel sorry for. She's quiet, not making mischief, so when I drag the black crayon along the corridor wall; I do it in memory of her.

I like the contrast of the dark line against the white walls, and imagining the men in white suits shaking their heads in disgust at what they think some young kid must have done. I find myself grinning wildly, I'm still grinning at the joke, which only I understand, when I see Tony.

Great, just what I need, an overgrown child with commitment issues to make conversation with.

"Did you do that?" I manage not to snort, for someone who loves movies; Tony sure doesn't go for any of the great moments.

"I'm having a teenage rebellion," I inform him, it doesn't sound so good out loud.

"I'm impressed," he says and does something funny with his eyebrows. "Little Katie is growing up."

Wow, he sounds a lot like my brothers.

"No, I'm doing it for my niece. Perfect angel that the whole family fawns over," I'm a little embarrassed to hear bitterness creep into my voice; luckily, Tony is distracted by his reflection that he can see in the glass of a window.

I accidentally catch a glimpse of myself.

Big mistake.

"Aww, the meeting with the Todd Family didn't go so well then?" Damn, he did notice something. I'd been hoping he wouldn't notice anything.

"Oh yeah, just love the family reunions." sarcasm drips from my voice like honey from a stick. "I had an epiphany while I was there," I inform him.

"Really what?" He sounds genuinely interested, typical male interested and listening at the wrong time.

"Why Christmas is only once a year," I reply, my voice is as dry as a desert.

"Get disinherited." he replies.

"What is this? Tony DiNozzo's great wisdom of the year?" I ask. He shrugs in reply.

"I don't have to go to family reunions." That's true_._ "What's so bad about them?" he asks me.

"I get reminded that I'm still single and have not yet had any children. My biggest failing in life, apparently." Shit, I think. That was deeper than it should have been.

"Story of my life," Tony mutters, more to himself than at me, but I catch it anyway.

Go figure, the only person that he can even attempt opening up to and have a real conversation is himself. One day, I'm sure, he's going to find someone who can both threaten him and turn him on enough to make him open up.

Thank goodness it isn't me. I begin to pick at my nails as I wait for my luggage to come. It would be official, if they manage to lose my luggage; this would be the worst day ever, I think.

I watch Tony become distracted by the fiery red-haired who sells coffees.

He mutters something about going to get coffee to keep us both awake.

Whatever, I'm not stupid. I am willing to bet that Tony would return with not coffees in his hand, but a phone number.

The moment of deep conversation had scared us both and now we're desperately trying to grab onto some shred of normal life. Unfortunately, I'm not making life easy as I'm sleep deprived, hungry, since my stomach couldn't hold down airplane food, impatient and I have a blistering headache.

To top off matters, I had a team member whose current aim in life is to get the coffee lady's phone number.

Life picks up a bit after that, I spot my familiar red suitcase and drag Tony away from the coffee lady whom I've named Gertrude in my head. He only complains mildly about the fact he's numberless.

"You know, Katie," Tony finally speaks; I thought he'd forgotten how, along with our earlier conversation_._ We're both sitting in the car on the way back home, and he's driving. I thought I'd manage to pass the car trip listening only to the rain, my personal welcome home gift to make my life feel just that much worse.

Some people love the rain and the feeling of freshness it brings, lying in their cozy bed, feeling all warm and safe…I'm not, and never will be, one of those people.

"I know lots of things Tony," to be fair, I'm not making this easy for him. He ignores me and keeps going.

"Family is overrated." I'm taken back by his comment, so he has remembered, he must be drunk to be bringing it back up though; he's driving as well.

Scary.

When I say nothing, he obviously takes it as the go-ahead for him to keep talking. "You've got all of the family you could possibly want right here."

He's lucky I'm not drinking anything, because otherwise that new shirt of his would be ruined when I spat it out in surprise.

"Gibbs, the stern father. McGee, the irritating and socially awkward little brother. Abby, the hyperactive little sister. Ducky, the caring grandfather who always has a story to tell and me…"

"The irritating and self obsessed cousin." I say, I'm trying to get as far away from my bloodlines as possible. I feel annoyingly bad for interrupting him though, as I am curious as to see how he views himself. Or, I should say, to see how he thinks I view him, or should, anyway.

"Well, I was going to say the cool older brother who is everyone's hero and role-model. Or your husband if you want to fulfill all of those family expectations. We could kill two birds with one stone, I might actually be written back into my family will."

"More likely your kids would be." I watch his bottom lip protrude in a pout at my comment.

"And there is no way that I would be your wife, DiNozzo, so stop picturing me naked." He's leering at me, but falls silent again, for which I'm thankful. I don't know how much more of this thoughtful Anthony DiNozzo I can take tonight.

When we get to my house, he does nothing to help with the bags.

Right, the cool older brother who everyone looks up too and admires.

"You'll find the right girl someday, Tony. Goodnight, and thanks for picking me up." I slam the door shut before he has a chance to reply. I don't know what made me say that. The fact that he has opened up to me and tried to make me feel better in his DiNozzo way, or the brief glance of hurt that he gave me when I shot down all ideas of him being my husband.

Either way, it is too late, or early, as is now the case, to think about it too hard. All that I want is a blistering hot shower and to fall into my bed for a dreamless sleep.

Families, in whatever form were a lot of work, I decide.


End file.
